switchblade faith//spencer reid

10

ummm... Taylor Swift's "All Too Well" 10 min version??? i'm sobbing.

the next day at work, I'm begging Spencer to teach me how he performed that magic trick from the tattoo parlor. he's got his arms crossed over his chest, smiling smugly while he perches on the edge of my desk.

"does it ever get tiring?" I ask after he denies me.

"does what ever get tiring?"

"knowing more than everyone." I say it as a joke, but he seems to really mull it over for a few moments before replying with a shrug. I just scoff and shake my head, which makes him defensive.

"you asked."

"I also asked you to teach me about that trick, but I didn't get a response to that one."

"a magician never shares his secrets, Clea."

despite my frustration, I feel my lips turn up at the corners from the way he says my name. however precarious our friendship, I appreciate the casualness with which he says it in conversation. it's familiar.

"how am I supposed to become a magician myself if nobody will teach me how?" I raise an eyebrow.

he grins enthusiastically like he's going to relent. "do you want to see another one?"

I peek around the bull pen for a moment, as if to make sure nobody is watching us not do our jobs, but everyone seems fully invested in their own tasks. they don't even glance our way.

"yes, please."

he grins excitedly at this before pulling open one of his desk drawers to retrieve a small, plastic canister. "this one is fun." he muses.

I watch intently to soak up every bit of information I can; frankly, the thought of him knowing how to do something as simple as a few magic tricks that I can't drives me insane. it makes me want to learn some of my own, just to impress him.

"turn around." he breaks my train of thought.

"what?" my voice comes out accusing, arms crossed over my chest. "you just said you'd show me."

"I said I'd let you see another trick. I didn't say I'd teach you how to do it." I watch his eyebrow lift with a cockiness that surprises me. something in it makes my stomach flip. words disappear from my vocabulary all at once.

"dammit, Reid."

but I follow his order, spinning on my heel to face the staircase. Hotch's office is empty, but JJ passes by and gives me a quick wave before disappearing inside the small room. she doesn't look distressed, which is reassuring.

maybe it's selfish, but I don't want this moment to be interrupted.

"ok, you can turn back around." the mischief in his voice is boyish, endearing, and I'm quick to follow his command. that's when I see the little canister flipped upside down. the lip of its cap bubbles like soap; it fizzes quietly.

"is it supposed to do that?" I'm confused by the anticlimactic nature of what I'm looking at, but Spencer shushes me. his fingers wiggle with anticipation. I find myself watching with a curious focus until suddenly, the small canister flies up from the desk.

it soars, little hollow shell, through the air like a missile. my eyes follow its arc, right down to the moment when Hotch walks briskly into the office and it lands at his feet.

shit.

the team leader stops in his tracks to peer down at what almost hit him squarely in the face.

"Reid." he says his name without looking up. I think I hear Spencer gulp.